


Aqua Seafoam Shame

by masterwords



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: Aaron Hotchner Needs a Hug, Headaches & Migraines, Homelessness, M/M, Murder, Seasickness, Seattle, Sick Aaron Hotchner, Vomiting, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-09
Updated: 2021-01-09
Packaged: 2021-03-13 11:00:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,590
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28652391
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/masterwords/pseuds/masterwords
Summary: “You okay?” Dave asked, craning his neck around from the front seat. Aaron nodded.“I'm good,” he lied.  Dave was unconvinced, but turned around anyway, not wanting to cause a scene.  The SUV lurched forward, began to roll off of the ferry, and Aaron felt his stomach crawl up into his throat.  He swallowed hard and focused on the moving scenery, pressing his hand absentmindedly to his stomach.  Emily watched him suspiciously but said nothing; whatever was going on, he was going to great lengths to hide so she'd let him.  For now.  That he thought he ever fooled them was laughable.
Relationships: Aaron Hotchner/David Rossi
Comments: 5
Kudos: 52





	Aqua Seafoam Shame

**Author's Note:**

  * For [eachtoeach](https://archiveofourown.org/users/eachtoeach/gifts).



> Ok, the title is kinda goofy but hear me out. Or don’t, haha! I’m from WA, and I lovelovelove writing about Hotch in Seattle so to get into this I pulled out all my 90s stops. Listened to mostly Alice in Chains as I wrote, so it’s kind of surprising that it’s not angsty, but the title actually comes from “All Apologies” by Nirvana, seemed like a fitting thing for a seasick fic. The idea for this was a request by eachtoeach seasick/motion sickness with Dave comfort, and I can’t say no to that at all. I hope you enjoy it! <3 Thank you to everyone who reads and comments, I so very much appreciate all of you!

“Wheels up in 20,” Aaron said, closing his case file and standing up. He slipped out of the room before anyone could stop him, making a beeline for his office to set everything in order – out of office messages, last minute emails, go bag inventory, call to say goodbye to Jack. Twenty minutes ticked by fast, but he was glad to be able to use most of it talking to his son. They were on their way to Seattle and he'd be lying if he said he wasn't at least a little excited to see that city again – he'd grown very fond of it, but that was a lifetime ago. He was a different man now and he wondered if the city would still feel the way it had before. 

“You all set?” Dave asked, leaning in Aaron's doorway with his bag slung over his shoulder. Aaron smiled, nodding and grabbing his own bag. They made their way to the jet, the last ones on board, and grabbed seats together where they could spread out on the table. It was going to be a long flight, but they had plenty to occupy them as they prepared for the case. Aaron could feel the faint ghost of a migraine coming on as he sat there, but it felt far off, he'd manage. Swapping his coffee for water, he peered at the case file. 

“Why did they wait so long to call us?” Derek asked, thumbing through the pages of the file in front of him. “Looks like they've known what they were dealing with for a while...”

“Pride,” Dave muttered, and he caught the sideways glance from Aaron, a soft reprimand for being rude. He still had an affection for that field office. 

“They thought they had the unsub in custody, they even had a confession, and then another body showed up on Bainbridge Island this morning. It's unlikely that the unsub had a partner based on the prior scenes...” Aaron started, and Spencer chimed in right over the top of him, finishing his thought.

“So we're looking at a false confession or a copycat?” 

“Awfully fast for a copycat,” JJ muttered. Emily just nodded, she couldn't tear her eyes away from the women in the photos. There was something about them that she just couldn't place, something off, but it was in all of them, even the new one. 

“It's the same unsub, they have the wrong person in custody. These details, that's not the work of a copycat, it can't be. There isn't any hesitation, copycats almost always show signs of hesitation.”

As the conversation lulled, the jet lurched to the side and bumped up and down, rocking all of the passengers in their seats. Dave crossed himself and sucked in a deep breath, gripping his arm rests for dear life. The turbulence continued rocking the plane, bumping the nose upward like a jet ski in choppy waters. Aaron, still looking at his case file, placed his hand on top of Dave's and squeezed a little. No one was paying attention, so he left his hand there – he knew how Dave hated turbulence. It was a silly, but very endearing little fear. 

“Wish we could drink on here,” Dave muttered and Aaron grinned, shaking his head. 

“That's the last thing we need, you showing up to a crime scene after a particularly turbulent flight, completely wasted and belligerent.”

“I don't get wasted, Aaron,” Dave said, rather indignantly. 

“Oh, God, can you imagine?” Emily chimed in, laughing. “We'd be thrown out.” 

The turbulence came and went for the remainder of the flight, and after a while Dave loosened up a bit thanks to Garcia changing the subject. She didn't like flying much either, and wasn't thrilled to have been forced to come on this case, but she'd get to keep an eye on her babies. Aaron focused in on reading through the files, noticing that his vision was going in and out, sparkly at the edges. He sat back and closed his eyes for a moment, resting his head against the cushion. He knew he should have taken his medication, but he needed to be alert when they arrived so he decided to wait. If he took his pill now he may as well go straight to the hotel room and sleep, it was all he'd be good for – he just had to power through. When they landed in Seattle, they made their way for the FBI offices downtown. Aaron drove one SUV, Derek the other – one of them knew the way like the back of his hand, the other refused to use a GPS and just found his way on his own. One made it quite a bit faster than the other, but in Seattle traffic, neither ride had been easy. Their stay in the office was short lived, just long enough to get settled into a conference room and get Garcia online and in charge. JJ and Reid stayed behind with Garcia while Dave, Aaron, Emily and Derek made their way to the pier, they had a ferry to catch. 

“So we gotta take a boat?” Derek asked, wrinkling his nose. Aaron nodded. 

“No other way to get to Bainbridge Island, unless you want to swim. It's a short trip, only about a half hour, Haley and I used to make day trips out that way on weekends. It's beautiful.”

Derek was unconvinced. He didn't like boats. Not even a little. Unless there were women in bikinis and free flowing drinks, then he might change his mind. That could probably change his mind about any number of things he previously didn't like, though. Aaron sucked in the briny air of the Puget Sound, feeling it ignite something in him he hadn't felt in years. He saw Haley, her hair whipping in the wind, shaking sand out after a day spent on Alki Beach, smelling like salt water. He wasn't here for a trip down memory lane, what they were getting on the ferry to see was grisly, but in these quiet moments before, he was filled with something akin to peace. This time in their lives had been challenging and beautiful, it was the calm before the storm. Seattle would always hold a piece of himself he could never get back, sometimes he thought it was the best piece.

The ferry was large, filled with cars and people, decks and decks of them. As they set out over the Sound, Aaron took his place on the top deck, the saltwater wind whipping him in the face. He glanced at the Space Needle briefly before turning away from the city, toward the island. It was quick, the change he felt as he'd turned on his heel while the boat began moving – one minute he was sure footed, smiling, and the next he felt dizzy and thought his knees might buckle beneath him. He stumbled and reached for the railing, catching himself before he fell and looked around to make sure no one had seen. His head swam, he blinked, squeezed his eyes shut, felt his whole body sway and he gripped the railing tighter. For a moment he thought he was going to be sick. He'd taken this ferry plenty of times, been on boats his entire life, and suddenly he was seasick for the first time in his life. It was probably the migraine coming along, he reasoned, but there wasn't anything he could do for it now. He regretted making fun of Dave for the turbulence as he just held on tight for the half hour ride. By the time they docked, he was pale, his legs would barely hold him up, and somehow he had to get off of the boat and to the crime scene without alarming anyone. Taking a moment to collect himself, to take a deep breath, he pressed the palm of his hand to the flat of his stomach, willing it to settle. He took a step, shaky but it held, so he took another. By the time he'd reached the SUV, Derek was in the driver seat and he sighed, this wasn't going well at all. He slid into the back beside Emily and opened the window. His head throbbed, pressure built behind his eyes, his migraine was coming on faster now and he had left his bag with his meds at the station. 

“You okay?” Dave asked, craning his neck around from the front seat. Aaron nodded. 

“I'm good,” he lied. Dave was unconvinced, but turned around anyway, not wanting to cause a scene. The SUV lurched forward, began to roll off of the ferry, and Aaron felt his stomach crawl up into his throat. He swallowed hard and focused on the moving scenery, pressing his hand absentmindedly to his stomach. Emily watched him suspiciously but said nothing; whatever was going on, he was going to great lengths to hide so she'd let him. For now. That he thought he ever fooled them was laughable. 

“You were right, Hotch, that was beautiful,” Derek said, taking the curving, winding island roads a little faster than Aaron would have preferred. He forced a smile. 

“Told you,” he muttered, closing his eyes against the wind whipping in through the window. The smell washed over him, a blanket of memories settling on him now and he smiled. Sometimes, even still, he missed Haley so much it hurt. Being here, though, it didn't hurt this time. The memories felt far away and golden, a time in his life that he still smiled often. They'd spent an anniversary out on the island, in a small hotel, the island had changed since then, more people, buildings and houses than there used to be. There was still a sort of peace about it, though. It was busy, but it wasn't Seattle, they had the Sound to keep their way of life preserved. The crime scene seemed to come out of nowhere, ugly yellow tape and police officers marring the beautiful Pacific Northwest island greenery with an ugliness that put a sour taste in your mouth. They all watched as pictures were taken, items collected and bagged, and when they jumped out all of the heads seemed to turn their direction. The scene almost froze. Aaron took a deep breath and straightened himself up the best he could, squaring his shoulders and taking one uneasy step after another toward the victim. The detective introduced himself, shaking everyone's hands and directing them toward the young woman. Aaron hadn't been squeamish for years now, but he felt the bile rise in his throat at the sight of her there. He flinched behind his sunglasses and turned away, trying to look casual as he did so. He took in the sights around them, towering mansions, a little restaurant, the beach. This was a less inhabited spot on the island, but a lot of foot traffic. There was a trail for walking that looked well worn. 

“Any witnesses?” he asked, because someone needed to, and because he needed an excuse not to look at her. He swayed a little on his feet. Dave and Emily shot each other concerned looks, like they were keeping a silent scorecard between them. 

“No one saw anything, or they're not coming forward if they did. This is a pretty tight knit community out here.” Aaron rolled his eyes, he hated when people said that. To him, it only sounded like a way to excuse monsters in your midst, cleanse your soul of the burden you bear with your knowledge. Tight knit. It left a foul taste in his mouth. 

“So they wouldn't say anything even if they did know,” Dave said, vocalizing exactly what Aaron was thinking without skipping a beat. The detective furrowed his brow, looked a little offended, huffed and then nodded in agreement. 

“There's something else you all should see, it's a few miles up the way,” the detective said, gesturing toward the parked vehicles. “I can take you.” Aaron shuddered at the thought of getting into that vehicle again, he'd just started feeling marginally better. Still, he slid into his seat, now packed in between Emily and Derek in the back so the detective could drive. How Dave managed to snag the front seat again was beyond him. His knees were crunched awkwardly, and every curve made him sway in his seat, struggling to keep his balance, leaning against Emily on one turn and Derek on the next. He reached up, touched his thumb and forefinger to his brow bone and rubbed softly. By the time they'd arrived at the secondary scene with its gaudy yellow tape, he was fairly sure he was moments away from being sick all over in the car and thanked his lucky stars they stopped when they did. They all slid out, and he felt the odd sensation of his knees buckling as his feet hit the ground, like he was still on the boat, but he caught himself on the door and steadied his legs. Emily peered at him. 

“You okay?” she asked, quietly, and he nodded. Of course he did. Why did they even bother to ask? “Alright. You just don't look too good.” 

“That was rude,” he replied dryly and cracked a half smile, to try and put her at ease. It did the opposite – now she was sure something was wrong. He moved away from the SUV, approaching the bushes that were taped off and peered into them quietly. It looked like a camp, and there were personal items that seemed to belong to the victim. 

“What is this?” Aaron asked, lifting his sunglasses just a bit to peer at the items. 

“We think she lived here. I'm sure you've seen it in the news, but our homeless situation in Seattle has increased exponentially in the last decade, a lot of them are having to relocate just due to space and some of them, the lucky ones, have managed to find passage out this way, or up into the San Juans. The communities don't take kindly to it. Every one of his victims has been homeless, but this is the first one that we've seen actually living on the island.”

“He's getting bold,” Derek muttered, turning around, looking at all of the houses surrounding the tiny camp. “Bet they don't get a lot of this out here.” 

“No, absolutely not,” the detective replied. “Bainbridge Island was voted the 2nd best city in the whole country to live in not long ago. This sort of thing just doesn't happen here.”

“Our unsub lives out here,” Emily said softly, eyeing one house after another. Not houses, mansions. “When he hunted in the city, it was organized, methodical, but out here it looked more passionate. Same victimology, same methods, but just...messy, there was real rage here. He left this camp here for us to find, as a warning. He feels like these people are defiling his city, but the water separates him from it – seeing her here, he couldn't control himself.”

“We need to deliver the profile,” Derek said, and everyone agreed, heading toward the SUV again. Aaron couldn't do it, not again. He felt hot and lightheaded, his migraine had settled in behind his eyes, he was being extra quiet just to save face but he couldn't ride in that vehicle again. It would be all over. 

“I'm going to walk, check out the area from here back to the dump site.”

“That's gonna take you at least 20 minutes,” the detective said, and Aaron nodded. He didn't care. Emily stayed behind with him, hesitated at his side. 

“I'll walk with you, I could use the exercise after the donuts I had for breakfast this morning.” 

“Donuts for breakfast? You must have been with Reid.” Aaron said, rolling his eyes. Those two ate like children. He saw through her ruse, she was keeping an eye on him. He'd seen the look she and Dave exchanged when he said he'd walk, he understood their unspoken language. They knew, but there was a code of silence right now and no one was eager to be the one who broke it. He wondered whether Derek was in on it – he didn't usually partake in their little games, but they were all excellent at their jobs and that, unfortunately, meant there were few secrets in their midst. They were letting him do his job, preserving his dignity, so he'd just deal with the sideways looks of worry passing between them. 

“So what if I was? I'd rather have donuts than what...warm, soggy grape nuts with skim milk? Is that what you had? I'd be sick if I ate that, too.” She looked at him expectantly, but got not even a flinch. 

“I'm not sick, and it was almond milk.” 

“Oh, that's so much better.” 

“You know what? I don't want you to come with me,” he said, walking briskly away from her. She rushed after him laughing. They walked in silence for a while, listening to the sounds of their shoes crunching on the gravel, peering into the bushes and listening to the water lap at the sandy beaches and rock retaining walls. Walking was helping. It took the edge off, which was about all he could ask for. It was almost a half an hour before they made it back to the dump site after stopping to talk with a few locals out walking their dogs and some tourists taking photos of what they hoped were Orcas out in the sound (Aaron was sure they were just buoys, but he was no expert). 

They milled around the dump site a bit more, talking to locals who were eager to get an eye full of something they only ever saw on TV. The way they spoke about the homeless problem was concerning, but not uncommon in cities like this. It was disheartening though. They seemed detached, like the fact that the victims were homeless meant they didn't need to care quite so much, be quite so alarmed – after all, they lived a dangerous life. If Aaron hadn't already been dead on his feet, it would have made him ill to listen to it. 

“How far to the ferry terminal?” Aaron asked the detective after he'd had enough, hoping another walk was in order for him. Two miles, he was told. He would walk back. Truthfully, he would have walked even if it was ten miles. He wouldn't be getting back inside that SUV anytime soon if he could help it. “I'll see you guys there.” He set off at a quick pace, hoping to be on his own this time, alone with his thoughts and memories. He rarely got what he wanted, though. 

“Wait up!” Dave hollered, jogging after him. Once he caught up, he followed Aaron, shoving his hands into his pockets and affecting a very casual saunter beside his partner. “So are you going to tell me what's going on?”

“Nothing is going on,” Aaron replied, matching Dave's lazy walk. If he had to have company, he supposed this was probably the best he could get. At one time, he'd fancied the idea of the two of them coming out this way for a vacation, was even going to open the subject later that evening, but he no longer felt compelled to return. He'd let the ghost of his marriage live here in that golden time, but he wouldn't bring what he had now. “I'm okay, Dave.” 

“Okay. Have it your way,” Dave said, shrugging. He reached up, patted Aaron softly on the back, and returned his hand to his pocket. It was his way of just simply showing him that he knew something was up but he was trying to give him space, to respect his need for privacy. Aaron sighed, keeping his eyes trained on the road ahead, on the water, seeing the ferry terminal looming ahead was making him feel anxious. They walked along, making small talk about the unsub, bouncing theories off of each other, until they reached the ferry and were in total agreement about the crimes. They saw the SUV on the road, awaiting their turn to enter the ferry, but they walked up instead of jumping in with Derek and Emily. 

Once inside, Aaron excused himself to make a call home to talk to Jack, he wanted to video chat but wasn't sure he'd be able to manage that as sick as he was. He moved slowly up the stairs to the top deck and seated himself in a way that he could watch the city come into focus on the horizon. He dialed Jessica's number, chatted with her for a few moments while people loaded themselves on below him, then talked to Jack. When the ferry started moving, he tried to train his eyes on the horizon, to focus on talking to Jack, but the nausea came at him fast, saliva filling his mouth. He said goodbye to Jack quickly, promising to call him back later, and not a moment later he was losing his breakfast into the trash can beside him. He stood and heaved, doubled over as his body was racked with violent cramps that sent shock waves of incredible pain up into his head. It didn't take long before it was only bile coming out, but it wouldn't stop. He was glad that he'd been the only person, up to that point, on the upper deck. 

“Aaron?” came the soft voice of Dave beside him. It startled him, but it wasn't unwelcome. “I've been looking all over for you.” He reached up, ran his hand the length of Aaron's spine, rubbing up and down, offering the little bit of comfort he was able as he watched his getting violently ill into the trash can. Slowly, the cramping came to a stop and he gasped for air, his chest heaving wildly and he struggled to slow his breath. 

“Found me,” he muttered, slipping out of his jacket and using it to wipe his face, the sweat from his forehead. He balled it up and hugged it tight against his midsection, looking a little sheepishly at Dave. He'd lost his sunglasses in the garbage can sometime toward the beginning of his episode so he had to squint into the sunlight, it burned painfully bright in his eyes. Dave, taking note, pulled his sunglasses out of his pocket and handed them to Aaron, watching as the other man put them on with trembling hands, his shoulders relaxing almost immediately at the relief. 

“Now do you want to tell me what's up?”

Aaron sighed and sank back down, this time to the ground with his back to the wall. He hung his head between his legs and closed his eyes, miserably trying to regain some control over his body. “Started getting a migraine on the jet, and I guess I get seasick now. I’ll be fine once I’m off this boat.” 

“You really are the worst fourth pirate in history...” Dave muttered, crouching beside Aaron, eager to get a view of the smile that came next. He knew all of Aaron's stories, he wasn't threatened by his marriage or his unending love for his lost wife. “There's a vending machine downstairs, I'll go grab you a water, we'll get you through this and you'll never make fun of me for my fear of turbulence again. Capiche?”

Aaron sighed, shaking his weary head. “Eat it up. Go ahead. We still have to fly back to Quantico.” Dave rolled his eyes. 

The rest of the ferry was uneventful, Dave and Aaron just sitting there on the ground, chatting quietly. Aaron kept his head down, and Dave draped his arm over his partner's shoulder lovingly, holding him close, leaning down every so often to kiss the top of his head, take in the salty smell of his hair. The ride through town wasn't as bad as on the island because traffic in Seattle was awful enough that you didn't exactly move great distances at a time. They delivered the profile, and Aaron did his best to stand tall, even if he swayed a few times and had to steady himself against the back of a chair. He opted to stay behind this time, let JJ and Reid get some time out in the field, to catch their guy. He knew he wouldn't be much good on his feet, at this point he was more of a liability than an asset. Stubborn as he was, he knew when he'd do more harm than good. He coordinated the officers, talked with victim's families and made a shaky attempt at a statement for the press. While the team closed in on their guy, he sat at the table, flanked on all sides by scenes of gore, working on the preliminary reports in anticipation of closing the case – provided nothing went horribly wrong. Like an angel, in swept Penelope Garcia in her lime green and bright blue dress, hair in big bouncy curls, smelling like cotton candy. She set a cup of tea beside him along with a small bottle of pink pills he instantly recognized as Benadryl. He peered up at her suspiciously. 

“A little birdy told me you had some trouble on the ferry...” she said quietly, winking. “I get motion sickness sometimes too. Like...really really bad. Like barfing all over the place can't see straight for hours bad. I swear, this will help. Take care, sir.” She breezed back out of the conference room, leaving him with a steaming mug of ginger tea, Benadryl, and the overwhelming feeling that they definitely did not pay her enough for everything she did. 

At the hotel late that night, after the unsub had been caught and everything at the station wrapped up, Aaron and Dave sat on their bed with takeout. The room was dimly lit, only the glow from the television and a small lamp on Dave's nightstand cast any light at all. Aaron had come back and slept for hours while Dave explored a bit of downtown with JJ and got dinner on their way back. Aaron was slurping a tub of beef pho with extra broth, something Dave said he wouldn't touch with a ten foot pole after seeing the tripe floating on top. He'd gone with a big cold cut sandwich and some chips, the idea of which turned Aaron's stomach. He wasn't even sure he'd be able to eat the meat and noodles in his soup, but the salty spiced broth was helping ease a lot of his discomfort. 

“How are you feeling?” Dave asked, popping a chip into his mouth and crunching loudly. Aaron shrugged. He looked like hell, a mess of bed head, pale clammy skin and glassy eyes. He was doped up on pain meds and Benadryl, his eyes were heavy lidded and he was leaning against Dave's shoulder as he drank his broth. 

“My head really hurts,” he said softly. “But I'll probably live.”

“I can't believe you were sick all day and didn't say a damn word. You can be so stubborn sometimes.”

Aaron just sighed, setting his soup down on the nightstand and sinking into the bed, resting his head on Dave's lap. “What good would it have done? We had a job to do. Besides...you all knew.”

“I...hey...okay, yeah. I suppose we're just as bad as you are, aren't we?”


End file.
